


Mountain Late Night Live Show

by Gilli_ann



Series: Mountain entertainment [3]
Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4006036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still out in the middle of nowhere, Jack challenges Ennis to provide some entertainment of his own, and Ennis steps far out of his comfort zone. Sequel to the two previous fics in this series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mountain Late Night Live Show

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Jack, Ennis and Brokeback Mountain belong to Annie Proulx, Diana Ossana, Larry McMurtry and Focus Features. I intend no disrespect nor copyright infringement, and I make no profit.
> 
> This fic was originally posted to LJ and is now being reposted to AO3.

Their next day was enjoyable, their mood happy as they rode in easy tune further up along the trail into the mountains. Ennis was as relaxed as Jack had ever seen him – he even made a joke about bein’ on the lookout for those really biiiiig bears.  
   
By mid-afternoon clouds started rolling in from the west, darkening the sky prematurely, though the temperature didn’t drop much and the rains held off. They found a perfect camp site, a small meadow with tall scraggly pines standing sentinel all around it, distant mountain peaks looming beyond.  
   
Examining the place, Jack told Ennis with studied sincerity that he was sure they’d finally found the center of the Middle of Nowhere. Ennis just snorted in reply, – but there was that certain promising gleam in his eyes.   
   
Once they’d made camp and tended the horses, they settled in for an evening of eating and drinking, talking and joking, sharing comfortable silences and even the occasional honest truth in between.  
   
As the night got dark under the cover of clouds and the level of liquid in the whiskey bottle was sinking, Ennis edged ever closer to Jack, little by little, till his left shoulder and arm were rubbing up against Jack’s. Close enough for them to share body warmth in the night air chill, his arm sneaked round Jack’s back to hold him tight.  
   
Their camp fire had died down to a few tentatively flickering flames. Otherwise only glowing embers left of what was once a couple of good-sized logs.  
   
Ennis turned his head, leaning in close, snuffled into Jack’s neck and tried to reach his mouth.  
   
Jack tensed and leaned away.  
   
“Nu-uh, Ennis. Wait a minute. I’ve got something to say to you.”  
   
“Huhn?” The sound came out as part question, part protest.  
   
Moving some inches away down the log, Jack broke contact, staring challengingly into Ennis’s surprised and confused eyes.  
   
“I’m saying wait up, Ennis. You’ve just been laying back, getting’ it served on a platter, fun and games, while I’ve been workin’ my ass off to make ever night here somethin’ real special for us. And you hafta admit it has worked, hmmm?”  
   
Jack rose, stretching his back, pointing commandingly at Ennis.  
   
“Tonight, it’s your turn. Gotta work for it, friend. Don’t even think about getting’ any before you find a new way of entertainin’ me into the bargain. Mountain showtime del Mar, comin’ up!  
   
Ennis looked up at him, horrified, for a moment at a complete loss, even for a “huh” or a “whut” or a groan.  
   
“But Jack, I cain’t…. Shit, you know me. All the entertainment folks ever got out of me was that time I tripped over the church picnic basket and crushed all the quiltin’ group’s apple pies.”  
   
He got to his feet, moving closer, voice sinking into the lower registers, at his most persuasive.  
   
“C’mon Jack, let’s just get in the tent. Don’t you want to? Why all the fuss, ain’t you just ready to…. call it a night?”  
   
“You bet I am!” Jack nodded sagely. “Just seein' you so eager for it gets me goin’. But I’m ready to call it showtime first, Ennis. You think of somethin’ good, and then we’ll see about it.”  
   
There was a mischievous grin lurking behind that teasing voice as he turned towards the tent. “I’m turning in, friend. You come along once you’ve got something special to tell me, or show me, or sing to me, anything – anything will do, except nothing.”  
   
Just as he bent to crawl through the tent flap, he turned, his grin gleaming about a mile wide now, so bright it flashed in the dark.  
   
“High altitude, high class entertainment. Come on, Ennis. Surprise me!”  
   
And he was gone from view.  
 

\- - -

   
Ennis stood dumbstruck. That fool man could be annoyingly persistent when he really wanted to, he thought morosely. The worst thing was, he was right. Jack had been pullin’ a lot of weight the last couple of nights. And he had made it real good, real special, memories to stoke many a lonesome night of longing ahead.  
   
Ennis owed him.  
   
Crestfallen, without much hope of success, he started desperately searching for ideas. He wasn’t no entertainer. He could easily enough come up with a long list of what he couldn’t do, but, hell, that wasn’t  -  
   
 - out of nowhere, inspiration struck. That bar! The bar KE had invited him along to last year, when Ennis visited!  
   
They’d gone there mainly to get KE out of the cramped screaming shack that was his home these days. KE and his wife had had four kids in short order, and were expecting the fifth at the time. The noise level was deafening, especially since Ennis’s sister-in-law wasn’t exactly the quiet submissive sort. KE had pounced at an excuse to get away from the homely din, insisting their evening at the bar was a special treat for his little brother.  
   
There’d been shouts and loud music, the scent of sweat and smoke thick in the air. Watching those skinny - and surprisingly flexible – girls, moving through their routines with practiced detachment, hadn’t done much for Ennis. But he’d certainly made a note of how the other onlookers reacted, KE included. The men got so worked up and horny, they were practically salivating into their glasses. Nearly beside themselves with lust and liquor.  
   
Now, if Jack could be brought to lookin’ and feelin’ like that….! Brought to that, by no other than E. del Mar! That was worth making a fool of himself for, sure enough. Yep, Ennis knew what to do. He’d do it for Jack.  
   
Ennis downed the last of the whiskey to fortify his resolve, and went over to their gear to make preparations.  
   
Jack had better hang on for dear life. This here was hopefully going to be a wild ride.  
 

\- - -

   
Inside the tent, Jack was getting bedded down, feeling a pang of pity at Ennis’s obvious bewilderment and near-panic. But Christ, he refused to give in now! Goddammit, the man had to be able to think of something, when his reward was this tempting, this close at hand… and this willing to be won over.  
   
Jack figured he’d at least let Ennis sweat for a while. Of course, that tense careworn cowboy who arrived at the trailhead two days ago would already have slammed furiously off into the night by now. But Jack had managed to loosen the man up since then, he thought with pride. The real Ennis was peeking through that shield of steel hard self-control. Just how far was it possible to make him go?  
   
There was a noise from outside, as if Ennis was shifting firewood around. Was he re-building the campfire? It sure sounded that way. Was he planning to sleep outside? Show Jack that he couldn’t be made to jump through hoops? What a let-down that would be.  
   
Jack was getting impatient, and nervous. He wasn’t going to deprive himself of some loving tonight. If Ennis wasn’t coming through on his dare, he’d just have to call it off, hoping it wasn’t gonna backfire too badly. Distract the man. No way he was sleeping alone tonight!  
   
Jack sighed.  
   
For this time he was in the right, and he knew it. He shouldn’t have to be the one to yield. Ennis owed him! Christ, but that man of his could be infuriating! Stubborn as all hell!   
   
There was a blaze of fire outside. Sure enough, the camp fire had been rebuilt and was once more burning brightly in the night.  
   
Perhaps he was demanding too much, Jack reasoned. Ennis was a man of action, not words, had been so ever since their Brokeback days. Ennis wouldn’t ever say much, but give him a little time and space, and he would get his point across anyway, in very satisfying ways. It just went against his grain to have to speak much, - or to sing! He shouldn’t be forced into it.  
   
Time to do something about the whole miserable situation.  
   
Getting up on his knees, Jack opened the tent flap and peeked out.  
   
“Ennis, just forget about it, just git your ass in here and let’s……”  
   
He stopped short, his mind finally registering what his eyes were telling him. He stared incredulously at the view.  
   
Ennis was standing silently and poised in front of the fire, facing the tent at an angle. Firelight illuminated him from behind. His face and the details of his clothing were shrouded in darkness. But the outline of his body was clear to be seen, bright flames leaping into the night behind him and making the tall, lean contours seem to glow. He was holding the coil of Jack’s lariat firmly in his right hand, strong arm extended and pointing challengingly towards the darkness beyond the camp.  
   
Tense and poised, seemingly on the edge of explosive motion, now that he had the undivided attention of his one-man audience, Ennis slowly lifted his other hand to tip his hat jauntily forwards on his head.  
   
Then he let the show begin.  
   
He started spinning slowly and deliberately around his own axis, the coiled lariat moving in time, like a moon orbiting a distant planet, undulating towards the sky and back down to earth, skywards and back down. Circling around, with a sudden flick of his wrist Ennis let the lariat fly out over his head. The long rope snapped menacingly. Again and again it switched powerfully through the air like a whip, while Ennis still was turning around, firelight illuminating the outline of his dark form, the lariat gleaming as if it were made of gold. One more snap of the cord, then Ennis brandished the lariat over his head, spun, and let the lariat fly. It disappeared in the darkness, but Jack didn’t care. He was focused on Ennis, only Ennis, who had stopped circling, and stood facing Jack, his face in complete darkness, one hand placed jauntily on his hip, illuminated from behind.  
   
For a brief moment there was no other movement than the dancing flames, fanned by the night breeze into shuddering and leaping bands of golden red, with occasional surprise streaks of elusive blues.  
   
Jack wished he could have seen Ennis’s expression to judge his mood. He could hardly believe this was happening. Perhaps he’d just misunderstood the whole thing, and Ennis had simply decided to work off tension and disappointment with some late night roping exercises.  
   
Ennis moved again. He was rocking his hips as if to a steady beat of imagined music. Letting his hands fall, he didn’t falter, undulating his hips in a steady, enticing rhythm while sliding his hands back upwards, along his sides and flanks, slowly stretching his arms into the air. His hips rocked. Then his arms sank back down, moving as through molasses, his fingers latching on to his top shirt button. Slowly opening it, he proceeded to turn round to show Jack his fine ass, moving rhythmically and suggestively to the silent beat, then finally completed the circle, facing front again, already opening the next shirt button.  
   
It was as if Ennis was moving in a soundproof and invisible bubble, tapping unknown wells of sensuality. Moving with such obvious command, in such perfect time, there had to be music somewhere…  
   
Yes, strong and insistent drumbeats in the night, reverberating to high heaven. Jack could hear them now, feel the vibrations. Then he sheepishly realized it was the sound and feel of his own heart.  
   
He gulped. His mouth was dry. His eyes too. He’d forgotten to blink.  
   
Ennis opened another button, and another, and another. Undulating on the spot, spinning in slow motion, strong thrusts of his pelvis marking time, he carefully and ever so sloooowly opened the shirt and pulled it wide.  
   
A humble plaid sail against the night breezes, the firelight illuminating it, making it seem translucent. Ennis moved in a circle of flickering, shimmering light, surrounded by the heavy darkness of the tall mountains and the endless sky. Who knew what eyes might be watching him from outside the firelight? The very thought made the scene in front of Jack even more daring, more alluring, more unbelievably sexy.  
   
Turning around at greater speed now, Ennis pulled the shirt off his shoulders, swaying with it, holding it out into the darkness, moving to his inner beat. He balled the shirt up, thrust it victoriously in the air, and let it follow where the lariat had gone before. It disappeared from sight in a slightly fluttering arch.  
   
Jack’s eyes remained riveted on Ennis. Ennis, who was now removing his boots. Jack could have foresworn that any man would ever be able to gracefully incorporate that in this kind of routine, but Ennis managed it. Sitting down easily, still facing away from the fire, he kicked long legs in the air with slow and deliberate motions, first one, then the other. Then he pulled the boots off with pointedly rhythmic tugs that sent heat racing through Jack’s body.  
   
Who is this, and what the heck has this guy done with Ennis, Jack thought, nonsense words that barely registered in his mind before they flitted off into oblivion. He felt rooted to the spot, yet riled up so bad he was ready to burst.  
   
This was beyond his wildest imaginings.  
   
Ennis was up on his feet again, spinning to send his boots flying through the air. 

Next his hands were sliding across his chest, gliding from shoulders and down, all the way down, cupping himself briefly with thrusting hip movements, hands moving back up, then sliding down his belly and creeping in under his belt. Hips never faltering, a slow provocative beat, he proceeded to open his fly.  
   
At that moment a log shifted in the fire, causing sparks to leap into the air, briefly carried along on the breeze. For the first time Ennis locked eyes with Jack, held his gaze for a moment, probably reading what he wanted to see, wide open emotions and blazing desire. The fire died back down. Jack couldn’t see Ennis’s eyes anymore.  
   
Tugging his jeans down over his hips, one inch at a time at first, in one fell swoop Ennis suddenly pulled them all the way down, stepped out of one leg, and a swiveling motion of the other kicked the jeans off and away to where the rest of his stuff had gone before.  
   
As was his custom on their fishing trips, Ennis was going commando, - ever mindful (and hopeful) of granting Jack easy access at all times.  
   
Jack swallowed. This had to be a dream. He’d had dreams like this before. Only they usually proved to be nightmares where Ennis would turn into LD. A horribly nude LD, yelling abuse at him from the top of a tractor. Jack shuddered.  
   
Ennis straightened his back, stretched his legs, and remained tensely erect for a moment before climbing up onto their fireside sitting log. There he stood still at last, directly in front of the fire, posture proudly balanced and upright. He kept himself immobile except for the sweat-gleaming chest, heaving with forceful rapid breaths. Hands on hips, pelvis thrust forward. Clad in nothing but flickering firelight and his hat.  
   
The perfectly illuminated and unashamed silhouette confirmed without a doubt just how stimulating the striptease routine had been.  
   
Jack was on fire.  
   
Ennis looked hot enough to burst into flames any second, hot enough to go up in smoke. The heat seared Jack’s whole body. He was painfully hard. He had never guessed Ennis had this in him. What an incredible show!  
   
Convulsively pulling the tent flap further open with a slightly shaking hand, he leaned out into the mountain chill and rediscovered his lost voice in order to croak a command.  
   
“Ennis, quit your shimmyin' and your horny posin’ and git your flamin’ hot ass and that fine fire rake of yours in here pronto! That‘s enough entertainment, bud! If I don’t git my hands on you right this second, I’m gonna explode!”  
   
A shudder moved through Ennis, but he made no sound in reply, made no move either, except for turning his head a fraction in Jack’s direction. One beat, then he lifted a hand and forcefully beckoned Jack towards him.  
   
Their eyes locked. For a moment their wills and desires were perfectly balanced in a wordless, motionless tug-of-war. Sparks flew skywards.

With passionate and satisfying impact, they met half-way.


End file.
